Pages

Friday, July 23, 2010

the question begs. someone asks and i sometimes don't know how to answer.what's new?
nothing. but not really nothing. i mean there are things.
and i wonder what we talk about and what we pretend to care about in the words of others and in between the few moments we have to ourselves.
i mean, i've got things.

according to this, i write like cory doctorow. i am burning through some neil gaiman right now and two things come to mind: (1) the fact that i even know who cory doctorow and neil gaiman are is mindboggling considering my usual choice of genre and probably has more to do with my choice in life partner than anything else. and (2) i lied. i'm not burning through anything. i read at night. before bed. for about a half hour to forty five minutes. i reinforce delusions about my current self when i stack extra books next to the bed, as though i will suddenly start tearing through pages at warp speed. i used to read a lot more.
i used to do a lot of things.

do you ever wonder if you're original? or if you're just repeating the same things everyone else has repeated over and over and over and you wonder how people make new and write new and do new.
then you read about a politician using fake words and comparing herself to shakespeare and you thinkshe kind of has a point.
i want to make up my own words. i want them to have my own meaning. i want something new that was not there before me.

when i am feeling a bit misaligned, i organize things. i reorganize. i file papers and label things and line things up properly. i feel safe and secure when things are in order. when objects are placed with intention.

sometimes all i have to do is put my feet forward to see that the exact thing i need is waiting for me.

11 comments:

Krista, I laugh at myself when I do this, answer this question to people who have expected different things from my life. And I want to say, it's not what you see, it's not what I get paid for, but rather it is what drives me through my day and into my next. It's what holds my interest, what turns my soul. It's what I will do, or what I do when no one is looking. I am almost at the meat of life, and if not THE meat, then I am at a smaller portion and ohmygod! once I find that one, I will be on to the larger one. I'm almost THERE!

But instead I say, oh, nothing much. I've tried being honest and been found quite crazy and misunderstood. And so it goes.

I need my things in order too, but less and less often these days. More and more I focus on the meat, and the rest, well, it looks pretty much the same to me.

Hey- They tell me that I write like Ernest Hemingway??!! Too funny.I hate that question because I have a literal and detailed response waiting but know that no one really wants to hear it. I have a blog post in the wings but it gets stuck, right in my craw. Order is a need, or more accurately a goal, but luckily I can live without it!I had to look up corey doctorow- I've read EL Doctorow but not corey- something new to try!Do I ever wonder if I'm original? I work with people all day and I know that there isn't much that is original but there is much that is unique.

I went on a Neil Gaiman kick last winter, reading Sandman. My husband's had those huge volumes of Gaiman's collected Sandman series for years but I'd never read them. I fell in love with him after reading 'The Graveyard Book' which my grandson gave to me after he read it.

Here in the South we don't say 'what's new?' We say, 'How's you Mama and n'em doing?' which leads to rather lengthy conversations. I could go on for pages with some hilarious stories that have erupted after that seemingly simple question.

It's not as important to be new, as long as your being you. Hey I think that rhymes. Anyways, that's only my two cents on the topic.

I plugged in a recent blog entry and was compared to Margret Atwood. I didnt know who she was so I Wiki'd her and saw she was described as a feminist and social campaigner. Very interesting. I decided to to give it one more shot and plugged in a much longer post I had written and was then compared to Chuck Palahniuk. This definitely appealed to my ego but only made me want to read some Margret Atwood all the more.

I think about these things you have written of quite often. I wonder if most other people do as well. But I don't worry about it anymore. I don't concern myself with it. It's funny how you can take ownership of a book or a song or a movie, as if no one loves it more. No one else feels like you do about it. Except maybe millions of other people. We're all unique. Nothing is new, except everything we do. That's okay. Perfectly okay.

I've always wondered how original am I...I put in my first chapter of my current WIP and I get back I write like Stephen King. Knowing my blog post are nothing like my writing, I end up getting back Mario Puzo. Two very different distinctive styles... No wonder I'm confused.

I can write dark and ugly, because I know the real monsters hide in human guise. Yet, how many others know that intimate secret too? Am I good enough? Kind enough? Am I even me at times?

Yeah, don't ask me what's new. I'll end up bombarding you with a philosophical answer that comes no-where close to answering the question. Original? In DNA, in all the ways that count. Happy? Now that's another good question. Much better than what's new and the answer is most definitely YES. (Hugs)Indigo

I think about the same thing very often when writing. I worry I'm not original, and then I clam up and don't write at all. But that's not helping anyone... meaning myself... get past that. I hear you. And nothing new here... gah...

I worry all the time about originality, especially in writing. But then I remember how much I enjoy the same story a thousand times, told a different way. What is it they say? There are only seven plotlines that exist, or something along those lines?

More important than plotline is this though: When I read something by someone else that I might have written myself, I feel validated and unalone. So the original is much less important than the universal.